


A Penny For Your Thoughts And A Hand For You To Hold It

by pineappleoracle



Series: half-life vr [2]
Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life
Genre: 'what if gordon was also an ai being controlled by the player and code' au, Panic Attacks, Post-Game AU, gonna update the tags later these are just for the prologue, sequel to 'Talk To Me At The End Of Our World', service dog Sunkist!, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24250516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineappleoracle/pseuds/pineappleoracle
Summary: Yet another post-game au because we all love them. Improvising this as I go so a summary is hard.Gordon Freeman is an ai in the game too who was being controlled by the player aka the 'real' Gordon and there's Consequences.There WILL be gays later, recovery from all the traumatic shit they went through, domestic shenanigans, etc.
Relationships: None (For Now)
Series: half-life vr [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750468
Comments: 7
Kudos: 92





	1. Prologue: Color Association Games

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to my other short lil fic, Talk To Me At The End Of Our World.  
> In the spirit of the original... series? this is all improvised and some parts will just Happen for no reason at all.  
> Have fun reading!

Flashing.

Flashing colors.

Red Green Blue Black Green Green Red White Blue Green Green Green Green Blue Black Blue Black

Somewhere, somehow, he thinks his eyes should hurt from all that bright flashing.

Somewhere, somehow, he knows he doesn't have eyes right now.

.

.

.

How is he seeing the flashing colors then?

_Why_ is he seeing them? How is he thinking this? By all logic, this should be impossible. He shouldn't have these thoughts. Code doesn't ask questions.

Gordon Freeman, a theoretical physicist, asks questions. It's kind of how the whole "theoretical" part of it works.

So, theoretically, Gordon Freeman shouldn't be capable of asking himself these questions and thinking these thoughts, because he should be dead.

Or as close to dead as the ai of the player character can get when nobody is playing the game.

But he was thinking, and questioning. Not even just in theory, this was very much happening.

So, his theory has been disproven by the harsh reality. The next step any theoretical physicist will take: Ask why.

Honestly, he had absolutely no goddamn idea, and nobody else to ask either.

This was really boring.

* * *

There was... something he had to do.

Something really important.

Maybe even the most important thing he'd ever done in his life.

But what? He was just... here. Can't exactly do much when you're only a few sentient lines of codes.

_The codes he had to find their codes-_

What the fuck.

Focus, Gordon.

He.. can't find the codes.

Who's codes?

Why is he desperately looking for them?

Another flash of color hit him, a bright, _blinding_ orange.

_Their codes._

But he's... right here?

He's _in_ the code, he _is_ the code, it's kind of impossible to miss!

More flashing, more orange and white.

Each one felt like a stab right into his brain. He _screamed._ Wordless, soundless, for he had no mouth, no lungs nor vocal cords, no air to exhale, no body at all.

_We're all right here, I'M HERE!_

_Orange White Orange White BlueGreenYellowBlueBlackORANGE-_

**Black.**

01000111 01101111 01110010 01100100 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000110 01110010 01100101 01100101 00100000 01001101 01100001 01101110

* * *

"You... Are aware of... the _consequences_ of your... actions? ...are you?"

The skeleton didn't answer.

The skeleton burst into blue code.


	2. Chapter 1: Wake me up to a brand new morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a panic attack over things possibly not being real, from "His words hit Gordon like a crowbar to the face..." to "Something soft and fluffy touched him."

His head hurt.

His _everything_ hurt.

He'd never been so painfully aware of every single cell in his body before. It felt like everything was on fire, or like he'd been struck by lightning. Repeatedly.

He wished he could go back to the blissful nothingness he'd woken up from.

But life is harsh and unfair, and against all odds Gordon Freeman was _alive._

His senses were slowly waking up, loading in, confirming this further: He was really alive _._

Solid. Made of cells and atoms and whatever.

_What the **fuck.**_

His first reaction was to freak the fuck out. Did this mean he was back in Black Mesa? Did the player restart the game, would he have to do all this again in a moment, this time tortured by the knowledge what it really was? _Had it been all for nothing?_

Once he was done with that, he tried to actually figure out what was going on. None of his senses seemed to be working properly, opening his eyes felt impossible. There was only darkness and, surprisingly, silence. All he could hear was some quiet birds singing. No machinery, zombies, game soundtrack or distant sweet voices. None of the sounds he'd become so used to during his entire existence.

It felt like his brain was still slowly loading in, and with it his senses. He still couldn't move a muscle, staying frozen no matter how hard he tried to at least wiggle or twitch a little. All he could do was wait.

After waiting a little while longer his hearing at least got better, the one thing he had going for himself. He could now hear people talking somewhere further away, quieter than the birds.

He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he recognized their voices instantly.

If the rest of the Science Team was here, then he _probably_ wasn't in any danger. Maybe he could even try to sleep for a little longer...

An electric jolt went through his brain, jumpstarting his thoughts again just as he was about to nod off.

He couldn't remember going to sleep in the first place.

He couldn't remember a _lot,_ actually.

His memories were full of holes, static where he _knew_ something should be. Did he somehow get amnesia? How much had he forgotten? All he could remember was what happened in Black Mesa, nothing before nor after.

Maybe if he could finally open his eyes and get a look at his surroundings it would at least jump start his short term memory.

His eyes opened slowly, still struggling to make his body move at all. Everything around him was... blurry.

'Oh. Must've lost my glasses.' he thought, staring in the blurry distance. That wasn't ideal, but he hoped it had just been one of his friends taking them so he could sleep better.

Then his next thought: 'Hey, that's my house.'

Something about the simple fact that he was looking at his house from the garden as if he'd simply taken a nap in the sun on a nice weekend, something that should be so incredibly _normal_ , was so very, very **_wrong_**.

Then he remembered why.

_'I shouldn't have a house.'_

Video game characters don't own houses. He didn't even have memoories of a house programmed into him. Houses usually aren't an important part of backstories.

But he was looking at a familiar nice little house and he was so very sure that it was _his,_ but that made no sense _at all-_

"Hello, Gordon!"

The loud greeting from right behind him startled him, mind jumping into fight-or-flight mode while his numb body struggled to follow. Instead of jumping to his feet and spinning around to face the potential threat, he just kind of... crumbled and tumbled out of the deck chair he'd been in.

"Oh dear, Gordon! It seems like you got a case of the crumbles!"

Dr. Coomer's face appeared above him, giving him a concerned look.

He tried to respond, but his attempt at words came out as an incomprehensible mumble.

"Now now Gordon, you need to take it easy. You've been through quite a lot, and your body is still... adjusting."

He wanted to ask him what the hell he was talking about so badly. Adjusting to _what?_

But his next attempt at talking went no better, mouth refusing to cooperate with his brain, and while he was still struggling with just that, Dr. Coomer had already picked his limp body up. The older man placed him back on the deck chair with surprising gentleness, one hand remaining on his back to help him sit up.

"Now Gordon, I'm sure you have many questions! And we will do our best to answer them in due time. But since you've got a case of the crumbles, it will have to wait a little longer."

Gordon didn't want to wait. Gordon wanted an explanation, and he wanted it now. But he was also struggling to remain sitting upright even with Dr. Coomer's help, his body numb and movements sluggish.

Begrudgingly giving up on getting any answers for now, he decided to focus on getting feeling back into his limbs. One twitch of his right arm, a wiggle of his left leg - and suddenly his blood seemed to remember that _oh shit yeah it's supposed to be in there_.

Full-body pins and needles. _Holy fuck that hurt._

He tried to focus on his surroundings to distract himself from the intense pain and tingling, and needles, looking at the house-that-shouldn't-be in the garden-that-also-shouldn't-be.

It was hard to make out anything further away, what with his glasses being gone. The dark green blur beyond what he assumed must be a fence was... the woods, his mind supplied after a moment. His house was out in the woods.

There were two shapes moving towards them, having appeared from said woods. One tall and clad in white, the other a little shorter but still quite big and yellow. What...?

The giant golden retriever barked at them in greeting, alerting his owner to the two people in the garden.

"Mr. Freeman! You're finally awake!" The figure in white - Tommy, it was Tommy - called out, hopping over the fence.

"To-Tommy!!" Gordon wanted to jump up and hug him, so glad to see him here too, alive and well. If only he could feel his fucking arms and legs at all.

Luckily, Tommy had the same idea, rushing towards him from across the yard.

Only Coomer’s arm around his back stopped Gordon from falling off the deck chair again when Tommy barreled into him, nevertheless laughing happily as he clumsily tried to return the hug.

“Tommy, Tommy, so glad to.. to see you…” he mumbled into his shoulder, words still slurred. His worries could wait a little, this was far more important.

Another weight joined in, this time against his side. Dr. Coomer had joined the hug, giving them a good squeeze.

It was... really nice to finally get to hug them, Gordon thought to himself. A little strange, but he could ignore that for now.

The nice, calm moment lasted approximately 3.5 seconds, until Tommy spoke again.

“Oh Mr. Freeman I’m so glad to see you! You- You’ve been asleep for so- so long!”

His words hit Gordon like a crowbar to the face, his thoughts instantly beginning to race, trying to figure out just exactly “H-How long?? Tommy, Dr. Coomer, how long was I asleep for?!” His voice breaking, he desperately searched their faces for answers, any kind of explanation that would make things make sense again.

What the fuck happened to him? Had he been in a coma, caused by that creepy as fuck game? How long had he been out for, what happened during that time, was everyone else okay? Bubby wasn't here what about him and _oh god Joshua-_

To some extend he was aware that he was having a panic attack and should maybe try to calm down, but when had he ever been good at _that._

He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be capable of thinking this, how was any of this real?

Maybe- maybe it wasn’t, maybe he was only dreaming or something, some kind of near-death hallu-

Something soft and fluffy touched him. A quiet, deep “Boof?” snapped him out of his thoughts, finally seeing the large golden retriever pressing against him. His hands reflexively began brushing through the fur, silently cursing the gauntlets of the HEV-suit keeping him from actually feeling the soft texture. Instead, he simply pressed his whole entire face in there, blocking out the rest of the world.

“Good boy, Sunkist.” Tommy had stopped hugging him, but one of his hands remained on Gordon's shoulder, a little role-reversal. It almost made him smile.

“woof”

An unknown and unimportant amount of time passed before Gordon felt ready to face the (still questionably) real world.

There was probably dog fur sticking to his wet cheeks, but at the moment he couldn't feel any. On the other hand, Sunkist _was_ the most perfect dog. Maybe he just disn't shed?

“Good boy…” he patted his head. “Sorry I broke down like that…” He was still looking down at Sunkist, but the other two men knew he wasn’t adressing the dog anymore.

“It-It’s okay Mr. Freeman! Comforting people is Sunkist’s job, he’s, he’s rea-really good at that! And um, all this is-is so new and, and weird, it’s okay to be a little scared!”

“This certainly is unlike anything I expected to happen. Quite the pleasant surprise!” Dr. Coomer patted his back, almost painful even through the HEV-suit. And yet, the gesture was strangely comforting. “According to my calculations, you were asleep for two days and seven hours longer than Tommy and Bubby and one day and two hours longer than I, Gor-……. d-don.”

The weird stutter made Gordon pause, turning to look at Coomer, an eyebrow raised. The doctor looked just as confused, frowning to himself.

Tommy meanwhile seemed to not notice anything, picking their conversation back up.

“Y-yeah, I’m so glad that you’re awake now! I was getting a-a little worried, my dad said- well he said you’re uh, ‘more special’ than-than me and Bubby and Coomer, so…”

Go figure. He definitely felt special, in the worst way possible.

Wait, wait “Wait. Your dad? He’s here too?” Bubby didn’t surprise him, he was the fourth member of the Science Team™ after all. But Tommy’s dad??

“Yeah! Well, no, not right now, he left to do something :(“ The sadness in his voice made Gordon reach out to touch his arm, trying to offer a little comfort.

“Darnold is here too!” Dr. Coomer helpfully added. “He went with Tommy’s dad!”

“He-he said we were ‘too wild’ for him.”

“Can’t imagine why he’d say that.” Coomer and Tommy didn’t seem to notice the sarcasm in Gordon's voice, only sagely nodding.

“So, that leaves us and Bubby. Where is he, anyways?” He looked around his garden again, trying to ignore all the confusing thoughts the view triggered. No grumpy bespectacled scientist hiding in the bushes.

“Is he… Oh fuck, is he inside my house?!”

“Yes! Dear Bubby said sitting around waiting for you to wake up was ‘Way too fucking boring’ for him.”

“He’s inside watching TV!”

Gordon sighed, relieved. Bubby probably wouldn’t break anything while watching TV.

Oh who was he kidding, this was the Science Team™. He should be glad they didn’t burn his fucking house down in the two days he was out.

“Speaking of, we should probably head inside. The sun is setting and we do have to worry about temperatures now!”

“It does get very temperatures at night here.” Tommy helpfully added.

Gordon was only half listening to them, much more focused on taking inventory of his body. His limbs were there, and feeling was returning into them, but only slowly.

“Could you guys uh, help me get up? …and walk?” He knew they wouldn’t judge, but he was still embarrassed to ask.

“Not quite used to this body yet, Gordon?” Dr. Coomer once again effortlessly pulled him up, letting him lean on him. Tommy awkwardly hovered next to them, way too tall for Gordon to lean on comfortably too.

“Yeah, can’t quite feel my limbs yet. But don’t worry, I’m getting better!” He quickly waved off their concerns, demonstrating how much better he was by only almost crumbling up on his first step.

Tommy ended up simply grabbing one of his arms, just in case. “We-we got you Mr. Freeman, it’s fine.”

He was right. They got him. He may have absolutely no fucking idea what was going on and how he was even _alive,_ but none of that mattered as much as having the rest of the Science Team here with him. As long as they were all together, he thinks they'll be okay.

Together they stumbled towards the door, Sunkist running ahead.

“Sure is kinda weird to see Sunkist so… 3D and not a jpg.” Gordon commented, watching him jump around.

“W-What the fuck is a jpeg???” Tommy exclaimed, utterly confused.

Dr. Coomer snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo i have a tumblr too btw its https://pineappleoracle.tumblr.com/


	3. Intermission I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, but earlier...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual next chapter should be done soon but this scene wouldn't leave my head first

Crying with a headset on sucked.

Not that he gave a fuck about _that_ at the moment. He had plenty of other things to worry about.

Those words were still ringing in his ears.

A farewell that he _refused_ to accept as final.

He couldn't waste any time.

Off with the headset. Wipe away the tears blurring your vision. Ignore the splitting headache. Sit down in front of your computer.

Two hands, shaking slightly.

This was probably the most important thing he’d ever done in his life.

Open the file manager. No, don't close the game, leave it running in the background, despite the computer running hot and wheezing.

His racing thoughts were louder, anyways. That and the ringing in his ears.

File manager. Locate the game files.

Was that a nosebleed?

Focus, Gordon. The game files.

A double click.

In the split second it took to open, everything was silent. Nothing else existed except the man and his computer.

And then...

**Black.**

\----------------------------------------------------

01000111 01101111 01110010 01100100 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000110 01110010 01100101 01100101 00100000 00100000 01001101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101110

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happens before the last chapter


End file.
